Taint
by Darksknight
Summary: Maybe it's not a bad thing. "Forgive me, Sora."


Written for Unattainable Dreams' prompt exchange. Prompt: "You taint everyone around you." (Sent by shadylampshade)

Author's Note: Sometimes I like to write dumb things.

* * *

"I used to be good, Sora. I really did." Fingers ghosting over the windowsill, she stares at the moon. It never waxes or wanes, and thus has become the only constant in her life. "I'm not a bad person, am I?" She imagines her brother looking at that moon, too, though that makes her feel worse about herself. She's a bad person to wish he was in Hueco Mundo.

Something creeks behind her and she turns, doesn't jump; she's stopped jumping lately. She'd rather calmly accept her fate- being startled wouldn't do anything to change what will happen.

There's nothing there. The palace creaks and groans on occasion. It reminds her of a giant white skeleton, a huge dead thing she's living in. Caged in, bars are ribs, the lights are fireflies taking refuge from moon beams, the doors are teeth. Her imagination has become rather grim as of late.

"What's happened to me?" She asks the sky. She's speaking to her brother, but for some reason, she always looks out the window to do it. Maybe she just wants to imagine him outside of the giant carcass that Los Noches is. "I… I don't want to be a bad person. What made me so hurtful? I want to go back… I want to go back. But he's right. Isn't it just as wrong to want them to die so that I can escape? I… I really am a terrible person, Sora."

It's not what _he_ said that makes her think this. After all… she'd already known it. But lately, well, she'd just begun to understand that what he said made sense. And she can't stop hearing it now. She can't stop seeing the words drop from his lips- one black, one white- perfect teeth and clean face wiped of any emotion but cold, cold truth.

"_You taint everyone around you_."

She'd stared when he said it- felt the gears in her head crank and turn- because _he couldn't be right_. There was no way he was right, she'd never… taint… anyone. What did he mean? Would he lie to her? She'd thought the two of them were better friends than that. Of course, 'friends' was a loose term- but then, nothing could really describe them, could it?

"What do you mean? I… I don't understand."

His eyes just barely narrowed. "We are different." He'd stated.

"Who?"

"All of us. You've changed us. And it is not for the better- you've altered us in a venomous way, Onna. You do it to everyone around you. " And then again, with stunning precision, "You taint everyone around you."

And that couldn't have been true- she was a flower in a garden of destruction. A gentle snail with a painted shell in a ring of salt. What could she possibly do to anyone who lived in a mad place like Los Noches? They were hollows, and she was a fragile school girl.

"You are strong." He'd told her. "Your will is the will of anyone you taint."

_I don't taint anyone._

But then slowly she began to understand. She understands when Stark is gentle as he grabs her shoulders, when Halibel nods at her in understanding. She understands when Nnoitora doesn't leer at her anymore; he doesn't look at her at all, thank Kami. She understands when Grimmjow doesn't shove her- he carefully pulls her- and is gentle in her kidnapping. "I'd love to beat the crap out of you, princesa, I really would." He says, he says, but he doesn't hurt her and he doesn't say why he doesn't.

And this is good- this isn't _tainting_. It's transforming- a caterpillar to a butterfly- metamorphosis. It's good- isn't it?

"It's against their will." Her reflection told her one day. "It doesn't matter if the change is for the better if they didn't want it." Because that was Aizen and his hogyoku, turning them for the better before they could ask for it. Forever indebt to his so-called kindness.

What difference was it that hers was true kindness? If it was; she had wished harm upon her captors daily for so long, praying, pleading, "Oh, Kurosaki-kun, come and rescue me." Because, oh, he would destroy them for her, wouldn't he? Because no, he didn't love her, but he did love victory- and in Hueco Mundo, that was exactly what he would make sure he found.

"I am awful." She whispered. "A monster." But what was wrong with that? A monster in a world of monsters? It was a sink or swim world, who was she to deny herself a small sample of power?

Another noise behind her causes her to turn. It's night, so he shouldn't be there, but he is. He doesn't say a word, and she follows his silence. He makes his way to her side and sits in a crevice before the window with her- a sort of window seat. She's never been so close to him- their knees are nearly touching as they mirror positions on the seat.

"You've been talking to your brother." He intones.

She glances at him from the corner of her eye- doesn't take her chin from out of the palm of her hand. "It's not polite to listen in on people." She whispers.

"I am well versed in the practice of manners." He answers back. His eyes are on the moon, as hers were moments ago. "It is no business of yours weather or not I choose to put them to practice."

She looks out at the moon, too. "Just like it's none of your business who I talk to in my spare time."

"Your mental health is my business."

"And?"

"You were talking to your brother. Your brother is dead."

"…" She licks her lips. She doesn't know where her eyes should be- on the pale moon or on his moon-pale skin. She can fill his gaze burning blush into her cheeks. She settles on staring down at the endless sands of the desert world. "I don't see the problem… maybe he can hear me."

"Impossible."

She sighs. "Do you always have to crush my dreams?"

He doesn't answer.

Somewhere near someone's spiritual pressure explodes. The seventh, she thinks. He does that sometimes. She figures it happens anytime one of his lackeys fail to carry out his orders, or maybe an experiment fails. She doesn't know, but in any case, it feels angry.

Her head starts to thrum- it's been weeks since she's been exposed to so much spiritual pressure. The pain is dull- she's used to that at least. But her nose feels wet, suddenly. She sniffs.

A drop of blood lands on the windowsill.

"You're bleeding." He says- lately he's been pointing things out that don't need to be pointed out. She supposes it's because he doesn't know what else to do.

She draws her chin from her palm and touches the blood that's begun to trickle from her nose. "I am." She doesn't really know what else to do, either.

She feels her heart do something funny when he turns her face to him. It doesn't stutter in fear- and that concerns her. When did he start making her feel warm? She can't even think his name- it twists her stomach in an odd way- she's not sure of anything anymore.

He runs his fingers over her lip, stains his pale skin red. "It's stopped." He murmurs.

"You-" As suddenly as she started talking she stops, she stares, she looks at his lips and she feels like she wants to cry. "You-"

He waits, and waits, and waits, but they're both just staring and the butterflies in her stomach have swallowed her words. Finally, he breaks the silence. "Yes?"

"You lied." She manages.

He barely tilts his head to the side. "No, I have not. The bleeding has stopped. I am sure of it. Can you not feel it for yourself?"

"N-no. No, not about that."

"About what then?"

"I… I don't taint everyone around me." And before he can change her mind she says it- the words are free, they are birds taking flight from her tongue. "You do."

"Oh?" His hand is still on her jaw.

"You do." Her stomach twists again- he's going to ask her how. And then she'll have to answer.

"How so?"

_There. Just as I thought._ "B-because." She swallows. She stairs at his lips. And she speaks. "Before you started coming around so often, I never thought about kissing you... Ulquiorra." The butterflies go crazy, eating away at her insides, and her face is on fire.

"Hm." He leans closer, eyes narrowed. "Wrong."

She stares, eyes wide.

"Once again, it's you." He's drawing near, his lips are slightly parted; they're soft, they're marble, she has to know what they feel like on her own. "I had never thought of kissing anyone until you. And now my head is filled with thoughts of your lips."

Perhaps she does taint everyone.

As their mouths meet- white lip, black lips, her tanned skin- she thinks, _Maybe it's not such a bad thing._

_Do you forgive me, Sora?_


End file.
